Lately, I’ve been working on my new book again, which I’ve told you about a while back. It doesn’t quite do it justice to say that it compiles about three years worth of newsletters I’ve written, sharing reflections and insights that I’ve gained over time. Throughout the years I’ve told stories and annecdotes, but I never quite connected the dots as much as I’m doing now. It’s hard to be objective about your own writing, as we all know, but I think the first ten thousand words really leap off the page – it’s something to behold – even though it’s still a long way’s off.
Putting my thoughts on paper has been a great way of reflecting over some of the mistaken beliefs I’ve fallen into. Amongst other topics, I talk about developing an interest for a certain type of advertising, known as ‘direct response’. I naively believed much of what was presented to me about that way of advertising – a belief that was unraveled over time.
This particular advertising approach has some major fundamental flaws, most of which I’d already figured out by the time two interviews came out on YouTube, featuring experienced direct response copywriters. Abandoning the industry they had been a part of for many years, they decided to tell everyone how the game was really played. What I heard confirmed my worst suspicions: it’s an industry that knowingly promotes low-quality products through every which way possible with no ethical concerns whatsoever. There’s a reason as to why that’s the case, and why it’s fundamental, but that would take us too far, that’s something I’ll leave for the book.
For some time afterwards, I wondered at how I could have ever been so naive and gullible. The red flags were right there, I saw them, but for some reason I kept giving them the benefit of the doubt. But then I saw Frank. I’ve talked about him once in a newsletter, he was a former student at my old college. He’d even gone on to achieve his Master’s degree, so he wasn’t a complete dumb-dumb. But not only had he gone through something similar as I’d had, he’d taken it much further. It’s as if we were under a spell for a while, only to snap out of it at some point.
Recently I stumbled onto another video I’d watched around the time of those two interviews.
As you can imagine, eventually a copywriter tried to defend the direct response industry. He did so in a long-winded Facebook post, trying to disprove what was said in the previous two interviews. In response, the YouTuber who’d hosted said interviews, made a video pummeling him with logic and facts. In a final blow, the Youtuber put out an invitation to debate the copywriter. Not only did the copywriter decline the YouTuber’s debate invitation, but he claimed to have seen the light, promising the YouTuber to change his ways. This was three years ago. Initially, he seemed to have followed through on that promise.
Today I checked his X / Twitter page. Instead of the 700 million dollar copywriter three years ago, nowadays he’s the one billion dollar copywriter. Inflation, am I right? 700 million just ain’t what it used to be.
The copywriter made a post that seems to have gotten some attention, so I read it. In the post, he boasted about how many views his video ad had gotten, then complained that some critic didn’t think it was good enough. Instead of taking the feedback on the chin, he decided to insult the guy’s profession, saying that AI will take his job. I watched the video ad. Visually it’s not too bad, except for a few stumbling points here and there with the animation. Otherwise, it looks like something Pixar could have put out twenty years ago. But he has cut corners when it comes to the audio, which immediately makes it seem amateurish. The copy beneath and below the video, as to be expected, overpromises. Dozens of replies are mocking his video. He doesn’t get it and never will, still as brainwashed as he was three years ago.
That, together with last week’s conspiracy theory about Taylor Swift somehow deciding the outcome of the US presidential election, and suddenly, I don’t feel too bad anymore about being naive and gullible back in my late twenties.
Kind regards
Vincent J. Dancet